


What Could Have Been, What Can Never Be

by avalonjoan



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, Haus Parties, Not Happy, Stanley Cup, The Haus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 23:11:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17171252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avalonjoan/pseuds/avalonjoan
Summary: Kent visits the Haus after winning the Stanley Cup.  He finds Jack on the back porch.





	What Could Have Been, What Can Never Be

**Author's Note:**

> I was rereading the Parse series and wondered what happened at the visit that Shitty mentioned. 
> 
> This file was titled "The Opposite of JackParse" in my google drive, so...there you have it.

The door opened and everyone started yelling.  People were patting him on the back, congratulating him.  Someone handed him a Solo cup filled with god knows what. He was pushed toward the beer pong table, where two students who still looked like children moved out of the way.  He kept looking around, trying to find the one familiar face in the crowd.

And then he saw him, standing in the kitchen and talking to a tall blonde girl.  Jack had a cup in his hand, which he gesticulated with as he was talking. The blonde laughed, putting her hand on his shoulder.  He looked like he was blushing, but it could have just been from the heat of a hundred people packed into the first floor of the house.

Someone yelled Kent’s name, pressing a ping pong ball into his free hand.  Jack’s head snapped up, making eye contact with him instantly. Kent was about to call to him when Jack abruptly turned and left the room, out some back way so Kent couldn’t see where he was going.  The blonde looked at him too, glancing around the kitchen for the already-absent Jack before coming into the living room, joining a group of girls in the corner. 

Kent finished the game, somehow getting edged out of victory but some tiny Asian girl.  They shook hands, she asked him to sign her Solo cup, and when he was close enough for her to hear without him having to yell, he asked where to find Jack.  

“Probably outside,” she said before getting pulled back into the crowd.

He made his way to the front door, ducking out when it seemed like no one was looking at him.  Circling the house, he saw Jack standing on the porch, leaning against the railing, head tilted back as if he were looking at the sky.  Kent went up the steps onto the deck, and Jack looked right at him.

“Hey,” Kent said, staying on the opposite side of the porch.  

Officially, Jack had a full inch on Kent, but somehow, he looked small, his shoulders slouched in like he was trying to take up as little space as possible.  “Hey.” 

Neither one spoke.

“Congratulations on the--”

“Thanks,” Kent said, too quickly, cutting Jack off.

“How’ve you been?”

Kent nodded. “Good. Yeah. You?”

“Fine.”

“You guys did well this season.” He’d been keeping an eye on Samwell’s standing ever since he found out Jack played there.

“They’re a good group of guys.”  It looked like Jack might have smiled, but Kent couldn’t be sure.  Whatever it was, it was gone as quickly as it came, Jack looking back down toward the deck.  Kent took a sip of his drink. It was silent for a long half-minute, save for the noise coming from inside, then Jack suddenly looked up. “Why are you here?”

Even though he’d had the whole flight and the whole drive to figure out what he was going to say, Kent had never found the right words. The plastic cup made popping sounds as he squeezed it in his hand.

“It should have been you.”

Jack stiffened.  “Don’t.”

“We both know that you always had a leg up on me, Zimms.”

“Kenny, stop.”

Kent felt himself talking faster and louder, but he was already on a roll and couldn’t stop. “Ever since the draft I felt like I--”

“Is that why you’re here?  To remind me of what could have happened if I didn’t fuck everything up?  You think I don’t know that it could have been me out there?” Jack stepped forward, raising his voice.  He stood to his full height, no longer curled in on himself, and that one inch made it feel like he was towering over Kent.  “We’re never going to know who was going to be number one. I dropped out and you won. I’ve spent three years learning to deal with it.” Kent stepped back. “It’s about time you did, too.”

Kent lowered his voice. “Coming here was a mistake.”

“You’re damn right it was.”

The screen door to the porch creaked.  A man with long hair stepped out. Kent recognized him from the pong table.  Jack was still breathing heavily, but took a step back.

“Hey man, Lards wants to know if you want a rematch,” the man said, sounding hesitant.  He took a sip from his cup.

“Kent was just leaving,” Jack said, looking right at Kent.

The guy looked between Jack and Kent, then raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “Alrighty then.  I’ll--uh--go back inside.” He turned and left.

“Next time, alright?” Kent called behind him.

When the porch door closed, Jack spoke firmly, his voice low. “Don’t come back here.”

Kent took a mouthful of his drink, his mouth suddenly dry.  He threw the cup to the side, it hitting the railing as it tipped into the yard.  “Fine. Don’t expect any favors when you’re ready to join the big kids.” He paused, then added, “If you’re ever ready.”  He regretted it immediately.

“Leave.” Jack didn’t have to tell Kent twice.  He turned and went down the porch steps, trying to keep his pace steady, even he wanted to jog, to run back to the safety of the car.  He wiped the tears away from his eyes. He told himself that they were just a mix of alcohol and adrenaline. 


End file.
